


Holic

by Steangine



Category: Bleach
Genre: AU, M/M, One Shot, PWP, Smut, unrealistic sexual stamina from both characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-27
Updated: 2017-07-27
Packaged: 2018-12-07 18:47:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11629668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Steangine/pseuds/Steangine
Summary: Ichigo is a stripper. Grimmjow is a dangerous yakuza who wants to play with him. And Ichigo is too stubborn to back down.[AU - pwp - not so well written smut]





	Holic

**Author's Note:**

> "Stripper Ichigo who when offered, decides to make some extra cash by accepting a night with Grimmjow, the devilishly handsome Yakuza who tipped him generously while on stage?? Ichigo has never been so blissed out after sex before. For the GrimmIchi prompt thingy ;)"
> 
> One shot born from this request.

Soft music, low lights, a comfortable sofa to put his rear on, a glass of liquor and lecherous bodies dancing on the slow notes to please his eyes.

After the shitty day he had had to face, Grimmjow Jaegerjaques was still craving the embrace of his safe and silent apartment, but that detour before reaching home wasn’t a bad idea. For once, Starrk got it right. That club was small, enough only for some chosen from the élite; or else the strict surveillance at the entrance and the pass Starrk showed didn’t have any meaning.

“No drugs, nor weapons.” Starrk had said when they were riding there. “Just show and alcohol. And sex, if you have enough luck.”

That meant the place was a no man’s land. Actually, it was a man’s land. Urahara Kisuke’s land. The only man who dared to build that safe island into Karakura Town, that was almost in its entirety into Aizen’s grip. A small space snatched from the territories controlled by the Espada and where two of the Espada themselves were enjoying that open peep-show. Despite his mind was sinking into the idleness of the liquor, Grimmjow found very funny the idea of Aizen discovering him and Primera growing the income of money of the only man who legally stole a tiny portion of his business but wasn’t a threat to the expansion of his criminal empire.

“Aizen won’t be pleased.” He remarked aloud as Starrk put a banknote inside the black thread pretending to be a pair of panties of a girl twisting her hips towards them.

“Aizen comes here at least twice a month.”

Grimmjow whistled. “If you can’t defeat them…” His eyes fell on the girl’s generous breast, but he let her dance away to another round of sofas without giving anything.

“Not a tip yet, Grimmjow?”

“None of them made my wallet pounce enough.”

“You should leave at least one.”

“Unwritten rules?”

“Sort of. Courtesy for the future.”

Grimmjow snorted from his nose.

That club looked like the others at a first glance, just very small in comparison. All the eyes ogling at the naked bodies, and the hands leaving eager caress were a must, however, none of the customers gave the impression of having a morbid attachment for whoever naked body was in front of them; all of them touched showing a sinister composed attitude. Groping without unwanted attentions and none of the dancers, both males and females, went over the edge of the stage, it was almost a 3D experience at the cinema with small interaction.

Grimmjow leaned his head back and looked at the arabesques running on the ceiling. He didn’t have enough alcohol streaming inside to make him feel sleepy, but he was tired enough to find pleasant the calming atmosphere. The voices of the customers were a buzz on the background dominated by the quiet music which guided the dancers like a thread moving puppets. Yet those boys and girls looked more alive than those who shook their limbs into the clubs he was used to. Grimmjow wondered if the slight crawl he was feeling between the stomach and the crotch was the arousal that was trying to overcome the slumber of his body and soul, or if he was just tired to the cramps.

“By the way, why did you bring me here?”

Talking was the best way to stay awake and Starrk, when he didn’t act like an asocial dick, was a good companion for a conversation without bringing up Grimmjow’s anger issues due to idiotic people he was forced to deal with.

“Because you looked like you needed a distraction. Lately you’ve been acting more violent than usual.”

Grimmjow raised his head. “You’re telling me I need a fuck.”

“Basically.”

“We’re filled with whores, the hell man?”

“I guess you got it wrong.” Starrk massaged his chin covered in thin beard. “You needed a new environment. It’s been a while since the last time I saw you this relaxed.”

“You say, huh?”

Grimmjow didn’t deny it. It seemed like his whole body gave up to the air filled with a slightly sweet scent – not a drug, maybe a sort of plant that tickled his senses. If only there was something else besides the excellent liquor and the display of beautiful bodies that weren’t beautiful enough to make him put his hand to the wallet and drag them naked on bed, it would have been perfect.

“This kindness is suspicious.” Grimmjow fixed his eyes on Starrk, as if the man would have taken a gun out from his elegant jacket at any moment. “What do you want?”

“Repay a debt. I’ve never forgotten you saved Lilinette even if her sake didn’t bring you nothing.”

“I just saved a brat’s ass.”

“My brat’s ass. If it was for Nnoitra, I would be bringing stuffed toys at her grave by now.” Starrk looked at the watch. “Oh. It’s almost time.” 

“For what?”

The music changed. Slower, deeper, it entered the ears and pierced directly into the brain. Grimmjow noticed how every customer straightened their back and fidgeted on their seats. A woman polished her suit.

“The ones here tonight usually come just to see him.”

All the dancers disappeared behind the curtains, but the music kept flowing. Grimmjow felt on his skin the crescent tension of wait that was glimmering into the eyes of the customers. Starrk adjusted his jacket, he looked more amused than aroused though: very few times Grimmjow witnessed a smirk on that bored face of him.

Grimmjow looked at the curtains -one man on their right looked like he was about to jump on his feet- and snarled.

“I bet it’s much a-do about nothing.”

“How much?”

“How–“ Grimmjow cackled. “I’ll pour every single banknote on my wallet on his pretty ass if I’m wrong.”

The curtains didn’t open. A hand moved the edge away and a long arm pulled a curtain away, creating a small black gap that wasn’t wide enough. The body was embraced by the velvet cloth; a long slow stroke and many envied those lifeless curtains, hoping their hands could be on those slender defined muscles. The dancer finally walked out, letting the curtains swing back still, closing at his passage.

Grimmjow bended his back forward. The boy was still wearing clothes, however the crawl inside his stomach exploded in a warm shiver that tickled his entire spine and awakened his idle arousal. He indulged in that bright orange hair and the brown eyes which weren’t looking at him and then his contemplation shifted to the hypnotic waves of the boy’s hips as he clenched his long legs at the pole and arched his back. That was enough to set all the spirits on fire.

Starrk voice made him turn the eyes away from that show just for a moment.

“He’s the young man Aizen comes here for. But he has always rejected him.”

Grimmjow looked back at him with different eyes and the desire of ripping off those tight clothes from the boy himself invaded his mind. He wouldn’t have left without having a taste of him.

***

Ichigo was already feeling too warmth. He wanted to take off his clothes as soon as possible, but he was aware all the eyes were on him because of the show and the more he dragged their desires along, the more tips he would have received.

His eyes run through the audience and recognized almost every customer. But when he spotted Coyote Starrk on his left, his heart skipped a beat and his hands clenched on the pole more than he wanted. A stab of pain run through his arms and he let himself slide down the pole, falling on his knees and waving his rear towards a round of sofa. He heard the crunch of banknotes, two hands put them into the elastic of his shorts, a finger slid down in between his rear before retreating.

As Ichigo turned around, he glanced again towards Starrk. There wasn’t Aizen next to him and a sense of relief invaded his whole body. He let the music flood inside him, guiding his hips from side to side in a slow swing. Another touch on his thigh and Ichigo lowered enough for the hand to raise and have a slight taste of his ass. As the fingers tried to deepen the contact he escaped in a glide around the pole.

Once again, his eyes skimmed through the audience and again he indulged a bit more where Starrk was. Because even if Urahara would have told him, he wanted to be sure that evening he wouldn’t have born Aizen’s cold eyes and his ambiguous smirk.

Ichigo gave Starrk a quick look. Then he was trapped. A pair of blue deep eyes were staring at him. The man next to Starrk was sitting in a lazy pose, with the arms leaning on the backseat of the sofa and the legs straightened in front of him. Everything in his body suggested a pleasant relax, from the messy hair to the untied tie, but his feral eyes burnt Ichigo. And the warmth became unbearable.

Everyone was on the verge of their sits as he moved his body without uncovering it, even Starrk didn’t stay completely still and straightened his back as Ichigo moved closer. But the man didn’t move. He stayed there, in that idle stance while his eyes were burning.

Ichigo’s hands slid up on his thighs, traced the line of the muscles to the hips and slipped under the t-shirt. He didn’t divert the eyes from those of the man, kept moving his hands uncovering the flat abdomen and stopping as he reached the chest. A quick move of his tongue, Ichigo moistened his upper lip and turned around, swinging his hips without taking off his t-shirt. A hand put a banknote into his trousers from the front, the stocky thumb rubbed the thin trace of pubic hair and Ichigo arched his back to make the short man long for the contact. The old man tended towards him, touching again the same spot.

Then he got closer to where Starrk was. Ichigo took the hems of his t-shirt and showed him the slow uncover of his back. Before he uncovered his shoulder, he felt a contact on his back. A slight brush of tip of nails that tickled him from the center of the back to the rim of his trousers – that wasn’t Starrk. And Ichigo was disappointed in hearing the mocking chuckle as a banknote was badly put into his side pocket without even trying to push it deeper: he left behind an unsatisfied crave for a deeper touch. Ichigo made a step and the banknote fell at his feet. 1.000 or 10.000? He couldn’t tell.

No, he was losing focus. Ichigo took off the t-shirt and went to the other side of the stage. Other hands longed to him and the pleasant tickle on his back seemed to disappear as he unbuttoned his trousers and many fingers groped his thighs, leaving back small bills.

Ichigo glanced back. _He_ was still there in the same position, with the same look. But his grin widened. How could a single person be so annoying and sexy at the same time? Usually  Ichigo didn’t mind whoever was among the audience, and whatever their eyes looked at him. However, it happened with Aizen, that unpleasant sensation of being under the attention of his gentle fake smile that made Ichigo keep his distance with the man even before he approached him. And there was that stranger whose lap was inviting him to go there and sit on it.

Every time Ichigo glanced in his direction, he kept acting as if he was watching a show not worth of his attention. But his eyes were devouring Ichigo, his hands kept teasing him on the hips, the back or the stomach and the tips increased. The same amount, a 10.000-yen banknote at each tease Ichigo received.

One banknote at time, Ichigo fell down into that game. He was careful of his moves, jerked his body away as the arm tended to him and with silent leers invited the man to chase him. Was he having fun? Ichigo tried to make up his mind and unbuttoned his trousers staying away from the stranger. Probably he was, he realized when the only woman put a small roll of money -maybe two banknotes- inside the gaping zip. The tickle on the groin was bothersome; Ichigo slowly slid down on his knees, the back pressed against the pole, as he made himself closer and available to the woman. He waved his hips and pushed his trousers down till his knees. Suddenly the hands of the woman groped him as far as they could reach.

Ichigo tilted his head back and met the stranger’s eyes while the hands of the other customers were having a dim taste of his body. He couldn’t stop an enjoyed smirk. More hands became daring in front of his almost naked body, but his attention was all for the man who was too far to touch him. Ichigo licked his lips at him and through the dancing lights he clearly saw his ferocious smirk.

A shiver. Ichigo arched his back, a familiar warmth pooled into his stomach. He was pushing himself outside of the boundaries of the stage. Too dangerous.

But he dared. He freed himself of his trousers and got closer to the man. His hand approached him slowly, indulged more on the thigh, the index traced the line of the lower sew of his trunks, but what he left to Ichigo once again was a frustrating sense of dissatisfaction and a banknote that was barely stuck behind the band of his underwear.

The stranger retreated back in his lazy stance. He licked his upper lip and chuckled at the frown Ichigo didn’t manage to hide behind the moves of his body.

Grimmjow laughed. Starrk caught the sound of his cackle behind the music and came closer.

“I’m so gonna make his body twist for better reasons tonight.”

Starrk smiled. “Glad you’ve found an exciting pastime. Your mood’s been dulling recently.”

***

Ichigo fell on the armchair. He hadn’t been feeling so exhausted after a performance since the beginnings of his side-career – studying at the university was a high cost and none of the part time jobs he was offered was as good as Urahara’s. And, for certain sides, neither as safe.

He took a sip of water and ended up emptying the bottle. He hadn’t noticed he was thirsty until the first drop of water touched his lips. And he hadn’t noticed how the hands of the customers could turn from a bothersome rub to a touch that relieved part of his heat until the that stranger next to Starrk did it.

He was with Starrk, it meant he probably had some connections with Aizen too. The music, the dance, the concentration and those eyes made Ichigo lower his attention and that particular came into his mind just when he was alone in the little changing room he shared with Renji. Renji, who put again his scene clothes over Ichigo’s everyday ones. The irritation towards his friend helped Ichigo to erase from his mind the remnants of the chasing game he enjoyed on the stage and the fresh room was soothing his body.

Urahara entered the room when Ichigo had already put on his normal clothes and was lazily checking that all his belongings were in his bag.

“Kurosaki-kun. I wanted to congratulate you for tonight’s performance. Some were disappointed because this time you stopped before allowing them to take a peek at your body in all its naked glory, but I noticed you let them touch more and that compensated it. Old people tend to complain even when they’re satisfied.” Urahara clacked the white fan against the palm of his hand. “Oh, how nice to be young and perky. All those people tonight came here juuust for you. I’m a bit envious.” He muttered dragging the last syllable in a lamenting sigh.

“I’m doing that for money. That’s all.”

“I know, I know. But it’s nice to be young and perky, you shouldn’t look so constipated all the time. Even if it gives you that mysterious vibe that many likes so much…”

“What did you say?!” Ichigo snapped.

“Oh, so you truly have a problem down there.” The boy tried to avoid the fan, but Urahara managed to poke at his stomach. “Do not worry, my boy! I use some herbs that made me be on time like as if I have a clock inside my intestine.”

Ichigo was floored. “Ugh… what kind of similitude is that…? And my body is perfectly fine!”

“Nice, nice.” Urahara’s chuckle lost his bright hint. “By the way, Kurosaki-kun. There’s someone who asked specifically for you. Well, more than one. But this one doesn’t look like he’ll let you slip away from the back door without putting on a fight. A metaphorical fight, I hope. Last time we had to keep the club closed two days and I couldn’t even go in Hokkaido to have a bowl of ramen.”

“There are plenty of ramen shops.”

“But only one in Hokkaido prepares the ramen that every time makes me want to sell this business and open a shop of ramen.”

Ichigo massaged his neck. The thirst from before caught his throat and again the warmth arose inside his stomach.

“About the man, if you didn’t make him leave, it should mean there are no troubles at all.”

“Troubles? Oh, not for us. Just for you, in case you were tired. But it looks like night’s still young and your energy is brimming over!”

Ichigo took his bag.

“Night may be young, but I have classes tomorrow. Excuse me, I’m going home.”

“Oooh, such a responsible young man you are! But you should have some fun too, you know? It’s good for your health.”

“I have enough fun, thanks!”

Urahara was a weird man. He run both a candy shop and that elegant nightclub that was the lighthouse inside the territories dominated by Aizen. Ichigo had never mingled into those affairs and he just happened to meet the man by chance when he was in need of a job. He had never thought he would have ended up shaking his hips and undressing for mostly old people in order to pay his studies and reach an early independence, but it happened. He was lucky, because Urahara was weird but nice. But still weird and sometimes his pretending-to-be-an-idiot -because surely he wasn’t one- behavior was annoying.

“You didn’t ask me about your tips.”

“They’re almost the same I guess. And probably many are fake.”

“Uh-hu. I checked them. There are no fakes. Hundred percent guaranteed!”

Ichigo gave him a puzzled look. He tried to do a quick mental calculation, but somehow his mind was drifting in other directions, so it took him time and he wasn’t sure of the result. He gave up.

“Whatever. Give me my share next time as usual. Good night.”

“Good night then. Ah, Kurosaki-kun.” Ichigo stopped. “I didn’t specify in any way who is the customer waiting for you, but you immediately thought of one in particular, didn’t you?”

That was one of the moments when Urahara acted like himself, and not like an idiot. His smile was gentle but not exaggerated, his eyes were kind but sharp. In those moments, Ichigo had the feeling Urahara could read his mind just by looking at him. Lying would have meant making a fool of himself.

“Yeah. I did… don’t worry about me, Urahara-san. I’m leaving. See you Friday.”

“See you, Kurosaki-kun. And remember that I still have those herbs in case you–“

Ichigo shut the door on his face and walked to the back door. All his efforts were channeled in the mental review of what he had to do the following day. Waking up, the morning lesson, then his lunch with Tatsuki and Inoue, paying the rent and studying. There was no place for the stranger into his mental routine. If he was waiting, he would have waited all night long.

That was what Ichigo thought before jumping the two steps going from the backdoor to the street. The man was waiting for him and his eyes and hair looked of a more intense blue under the radiance of the streetlamps. Ichigo’s mental routine shattered in the exact moment he spotted the man walking at him.

No, he wasn’t simply walking. He approached him without fretting, as if he was aware that Ichigo would have waited for him without going in the opposite side. And he was damn right. Ichigo was stuck at few steps from the nightclub and the idea of moving even a single foot didn’t brush his head.

The man stopped close enough for them to hear their breaths, but too far to have a physical contact. Ichigo’s right arm twitched, he suppressed the desire of brushing the back of their hands together just to feel his skin again. Did he really feel it back then on the stage? Everything was so fast that Ichigo wasn’t sure he remembered the exact sensation. That strengthened his desire of a physical contact.

He wasn’t much taller than him, Ichigo realized, but his presence provoked in him a sense of awe. His features were solid -he wanted to touch his face-, his skin looked smooth -he wanted to lick it-, and his sharp eyes were a magnetic trap – he should have had sex with Renji when offered, he wouldn’t have been that desperate otherwise. Ichigo glanced at his mouth, the lips curved in a sarcastic smirk, and was relieved when a sense of irritation tainted his silent contemplation of the man; at least he wasn’t sure if he wanted to kiss him or punch him. Probably both. An irritating sexy man who awakened his spirit, dragging Ichigo away from the straight road of his daily routine just with his presence. How was good for his pride?

They looked at each other without saying anything. Ichigo surrendered first under the pressure of his own thoughts.

“What do you want?”

Grimmjow was pleasantly surprised by his voice. Blunt as the young man’s eyes were; his eyebrows contracted as his look defied him. He imagined taking off his clothes and uncover that body in privacy, having him just for his own personal pleasure. What would have been the reaction of those old geezers who were drooling over the view of his nice ass shaking in front of their eyes if they were to know? And Aizen’s? The idea made him chuckle and the frown of the boy deepened.

“Grimmjow.”

“What?”

“Grim-jow.” He spelled. “The name you’ll scream tonight.”

Ichigo snorted a laugh. “You sound like one of those all talk and no action guys.”

“Hah.” Grimmjow’s smile widened. “I bet double of the money I poured on your round ass.”

Ichigo looked at him puzzled.

“On that stage, you looked like you knew how to use that fine piece of body you have. If you really know how to do it, I’ll give you double of what I gave your tonight.” Grimmjow leaned his head in. “But maybe you’re all talk and no action out of your comfort zone.”

The only sound in the alley was the music coming from inside the club.

“Ichigo.”

“Hah?”

“You’ll need a name to call out tonight.”

***

The leather seat seemed to be shaped over the body of whoever sat on it. The journey from the nightclub gave Ichigo time to reflect on his choice. He followed a man who probably had connections with Aizen and Urahara’s reassurance was so far that Ichigo didn’t feel like it was true anymore.

However, whenever he glanced at Grimmjow, all he could think about was how his body was under that elegant white suit. What if everything was a display and the mental image of him shattered against the harsh reality? A trace of black eyeliner defined his look, Ichigo realized it as they entered a well-lightened road.

From the crowded neighborhoods at the edge of the periphery, they were moving to the center. Tall skyscrapers of glass reflected the run of the car, until it sank into an underground park.

Grimmjow hadn’t given him a single look since when they got into the car. Ichigo always kept an eye on him, but it looked like the man found more interesting having his eyes on the street. Their gaze didn’t meet into the elevator and nor when Grimmjow opened the door of his apartment, walking in before.

Ichigo was nervous. He expected something to happen, but nothing was happening and the idea he was tricked slithered in his mind as he froze in the entrance. Was there Aizen waiting for them into the dim light of the room?

Grimmjow stopped behind him. His breath tickled Ichigo’s neck and the boy’s resolution swayed. So close that if he were to make a slight move back they would have touched for sure. And he wanted to feel his touch again, without the obstacle of the music, the stage, the audience and taste that moment for real. He had to move. Ichigo’s heart pounded under the pushes of the adrenaline pooling in every fiber of him, he was both worried and excited. A simple move as turning around had never seemed such a great task.

His entire body twitched. And in that moment their bodies collided.

Grimmjow pushed him against the wall, his mouth already on Ichigo’s throat and his hands clenching on his hips. Ichigo sank his fingers on Grimmjow’s head and chuckled when he felt his hands moving from the hips to his rear. Grimmjow pressed his fingers in between, teasing his hole and Ichigo’s half chuckle turned into a sigh of pleasure. Ichigo grabbed Grimmjow’s ass and rubbed his crotch against his.

The sensation was nice but not enough. Their clothes were frustrating and they left them on the floor a piece after the other. Grimmjow took off Ichigo’s t-shirt and trapped him into a furious kiss; their lips smacked with wet sounds and mingled with their heavy breaths. Grimmjow felt Ichigo’s hand on the zip of his trousers and he quickly unbuttoned his. When they were near the doorstep of the bedroom, Ichigo had only Grimmjow’s hand on and his erection painfully teased against the fabric of the man’s trousers. Ichigo unfolded only three buttons of Grimmjow’s shirt when the man pushed him on the large bed.

Grimmjow unbound the loosened tie and the shirt fell at his feet, revealing his naked upper body. Ichigo swallowed, Grimmjow smirked at the sight of his Adam’s apple jolting.

Large shoulders, the shadows over his chest defining the muscled chest and abdomen, a sinister chuckle and a lustful gaze. Ichigo sat on the border of the bed and touched Grimmjow’s firm stomach.

All of that body was his for one night, he realized while pulling down the zip of the trousers. All for him, he repeated inside his mind kissing eagerly the lines of Grimmjow’s stomach disappearing under the trunks. Grimmjow pulled down to half thighs his trousers and underwear, but Ichigo didn’t stop kissing; he moved from his hip and licked his lips at the view of the erection. Grimmjow’s hair were also blue? He couldn’t see well in the dim light and that matter wasn’t important in that moment.

Ichigo put both hands on Grimmjow’s groin and stuck his tongue out, but all of a sudden, the room revolved around him. He blinked and there was the ceiling in front of him. A short fraction of silence, he heard the rustle of clothes. He blinked again and felt hot lips nipping down on his neck, brushing against his nipples and smacking on his warm skin.

Everything was happening too fast. It wasn’t teasing, it wasn’t a game, none of them wanted to wait. It was a desperate search of their bodies, the touches were never enough, the pecks and bites were itching and the tickle under their skin only increased as they kept feeling each other’s bodies.

Grimmjow pushed his tongue into Ichigo’s navel and his stomach contracted. Then pressed in the index and Ichigo clamped his legs together as each thrust brought a teasing sensation into his groin. Grimmjow spread his legs and Ichigo held his breath, his fingers sinking into the cover and his whole body tensed in the expectation of what was going to happen. But when he felt Grimmjow’s mouth sucking his inner thigh, he couldn’t suppress a moan of frustration.

It was pleasant, but not enough. Grimmjow was giving him warm shivers, pleasure was pooling between his legs, but the pulse of his erection was painful, on the edge of sensing more without the satisfaction Ichigo was seeking for. Each pleasing tremble ended in a throb of unsatisfied pain. And Grimmjow kept tasting his body around the groin, right over the pelvis, touching the thin hair with his fingers and thrusting his index inside his navel, but without getting where Ichigo wanted. Ichigo clutched his lips, even if his voice still escaped from his throat, and forced his hands to clench on the covers so that he wouldn’t have surrendered to the desire of touching himself.

Grimmjow was having fun. Ichigo was beautiful with his flaming messy hair and the sweaty body twitching at every touch against his control. It was fun looking at his efforts of containing his spontaneous reactions, staying with his lips sealed and his muscles stiffened, even if that was only making him more vulnerable. Grimmjow licked inside his navel and tickled his hip; Ichigo arched his back and covered his mouth with one hand. As Grimmjow leaned over him with his whole body, their erections slightly rubbed together and Ichigo raised his hips. Grimmjow felt the swollen bump pressing against his groin and he licked his lips.

“Ask it with your mouth, brat.”

“What?” Ichigo still dared to smirk at him, excited but too stubborn to give up. “If you can’t keep on with this, we can end this here.” He glanced at Grimmjow’s erection, then looked back at him and chuckled.

Grimmjow frowned. “Mh… you know what?” The sneer on his face worried Ichigo. “I think you’re right.” Ichigo moved aside, but Grimmjow caught his knees and pushed them over his head, exposing him completely.

Ichigo was sure he could wriggle away, it wouldn’t have been that difficult and–

“Just try not to come immediately and cut off my fun.”

–that jerk.

“And you just try to put that tongue at a better u–“

Grimmjow licked the muscles around his hole, cutting off Ichigo’s voice. With his fingers, he pinched the skin of Ichigo’s erection, tickled the wet tip and lazily massaged it up and down. Ichigo’s breath got heavier, his voice broke when Grimmjow pressed more again his hole and crackled moans escaped his lips when he teased his penis. Grimmjow pushed the tip of his index inside, drew small circles to make the muscles relax, yet Ichigo’s body was tensed in desire and he couldn’t control the shudders of his body anymore.

All of a sudden , Ichigo was set free. The pressure on his legs disappear, the delicious torture on his crotch left a cold feeling all over his skin and Ichigo leaned on his side, still disoriented by the strong sensations that flowed inside him. He had sex with two other clients, but he was the one who worked on their bodies to pleasure them; that was the first time his attentions were rejected and he was entertained instead.

In that handful of seconds, Ichigo stared at Grimmjow’s body. He would have gladly tasted his skin and sucked his erection; the thought made tingles pooling in between his legs. Grimmjow turned him face down and Ichigo let him do it. Something cold poured on his rear, draining to his thigs and back.

“Nh.”

He flinched at the contact with that substance and tried to look back. Ichigo could just grasp a part of Grimmjow’s body moving on him. Then he felt both his hands groping his rear, massaging the muscles with that lotion – it seemed like a lotion and it smelt like chocolate. Who in the world used a chocolate-flavored lotion? The scent pierced directly inside his brain giving him a delicious sense of idleness and he closed his eyes with a sigh. All his muscles were tingling.

Grimmjow made his fingers glide in between his ass, teased again around the hole and pushed inside; part of his index entered smoothly. Ichigo jolted, but swung his hips back as Grimmjow put pressure against his muscles to open him more. When he added the middle finger, Ichigo was on all fours and moved his whole body at the rhythm of Grimmjow’s thrusts. Those thrusts that were too light and turned into the repetition of the same movement that wasn’t thrilling him anymore.

“Moving your hips, huh?” His voice was suddenly near his ear, Ichigo jolted. “Were you looking for this?”

Grimmjow pushed his fingers inside again and pressed against a precise spot, receiving a delighted moan from Ichigo. He did again and again, turning Ichigo on to the point he wasn’t trying anymore to suppress his voice.

Ichigo brought a shaky hand in between his legs, but Grimmjow took the fingers off, slapped his wrist away and pushed his head against the bed. Grimmjow aligned their bodies and felt an inebriating wave of pleasure as his erection entered Ichigo’s body. Bit by bit, he was sliding inside and the muscles cramped around him; he thrusted again, entered a bit more and Ichigo’s breath broke. He wasn’t moaning, but he breathed heavily and licked his lips with his eyes closed. Grimmjow stroked his back from the bottom and sank his fingers into his hair.

“M-move…” Ichigo exhaled. “You’re heavy.” He smirked.

Grimmjow was taken aback. His expression made Ichigo laugh, but then Grimmjow cackled back.

He embraced Ichigo’s waist and pulled his whole body back as he pierced inside him. Ichigo’s voice exploded in a loud moan and couldn’t control himself anymore under the violent thrusts.

“Agh!”

It was too sudden, Grimmjow was too powerful, he was drilling his way into his body and it hurt and was enjoyable at the same time. The vibration of their bodies colliding broke Ichigo’s voice. Grimmjow grabbed his erection and laughed at his delighted scream.

Grimmjow kept stroking his erection and pushing further inside him. He made the pleasure building into Ichigo reach its limits, bringing it to the verge of the collapse. Ichigo wanted to linger in that state, yet his body was demanding to be satisfied.

But Grimmjow held back.

All of a sudden , he stopped moving. He exited his body and left Ichigo crawling on the bed. He turned into a trembling mess, moaned at the pulsating pain between his legs, but glared at Grimmjow’s grin.

“What’s wrong?” Grimmjow turned him around and pushed his legs back again. “Craving for this, aren’t you?”

He slithered inside Ichigo. His body sucked him in and it was difficult to restrain himself at the view of the boy arching his back with his eyes and mouth wide opened. Grimmjow thrusted against his sweet spot, carving the lustful pleasure out of him. Ichigo turned his head aside, clenched his fingers on the covers and twisted his hips unable to contain his sensations anymore.

“No! No!” He wasn’t stopping. “Damn–!”

Grimmjow wasn’t even touching his erection. Yet, Ichigo realized he arrived to the point he couldn’t restrain himself, he reached the peak of his pleasure and everything else was numbed. Ichigo poured out all the tension pooled inside him, his semen squirted on his stomach at each thrust until what he felt were the squirming aftermaths of the pleasure.

Lost into the dizziness, Ichigo felt Grimmjow leaving his body and looked at him. He stood in front of the bed and took off the condom from his erection: he hadn’t come yet. Ichigo felt his head light, he sat down and leaned in as if it was natural and licked his lips, expecting a strong flavor to soak his tongue. But Grimmjow covered his mouth with a hand.

“Under the shower, brat.”

Ichigo frowned at his smirk.

The water falling together the blue light in the shower awakened him. Grimmjow’s intense taste turned him all hot and bothered again. Ichigo couldn’t think straight anymore, he was just guided by his own body’s needs and he had kneeled down the moment he was pushed under the shower. As his tongue touched the tip of the erection, he noticed a small twitch in Grimmjow’s stomach and Ichigo smiled. He grabbed his firm ass and sucked the hot skin all around his groin. When he put his fingers around the erection and licked it again, Ichigo felt Grimmjow’s grip tensing and releasing on his hair at the rhythm of his mouth. He took the penis between his lips and Grimmjow’s harsh voice trembled; he sucked on it and Grimmjow moaned in pleasure, thrusting his hips forward.

Grimmjow leaned his back against the wall, tilted his head back: the fresh water wasn’t enough to turn off the heat within his body. He looked down, Ichigo was sucking him and his brown eyes were pointing up. The boy let the erection, licked his lips and pressed two fingers between his testicles and anus. Grimmjow closed his eyes and figured Ichigo’s chuckle inside his mind as the hand stroke him to the orgasm. Grimmjow came in a growl, abandoning himself on the small seat of the tub.

Ichigo was still knelt in front of him, all ruffled with a cocky smile curving his lips. Grimmjow smirked as he opened the bottle of shower gel and poured it on Ichigo’s back.

“Wah! It’s cold.”

Ichigo stood up, but before he could wash the gel away, Grimmjow was behind him and his hands were already opening his ass again.

“I wash it on my own.”

“Then do it.”

Deep inside, Ichigo thought Grimmjow would have ignored him and went on with it. But he didn’t feel his fingers anymore and suddenly realized the man was observing him in that vulnerable position. Ichigo looked at Grimmjow; he could do that, he did that many times when he was alone in his room. But now he wasn’t in his room and he wasn’t alone; he was ogled by a harsh man while he covered his fingers in some of the gel dripping from his ass and massaged his hole with slow moves, because it became too sensitive. Ichigo trembled as a finger slipped like it never happened when he did on his own and he wondered how his muscles turned loose after sex. Water calmed him down and Grimmjow’s intense stare turned him on again. He dared to dart his eyes down, but Grimmjow grabbed his chin.

“Embarrassed?”

“And you?”

Grimmjow guided Ichigo’s free hand to his penis.

“You can guess.”

Ichigo swallowed. He couldn’t escape from Grimmjow’s gaze, he trapped him and wasn’t giving any escape at his brash comebacks.

“Well?” Grimmjow put a hand between Ichigo’s legs and grabbed his penis. “If you’re not going to do it, I’ll do, brat.”

“I’m not a brat.”

Ichigo pushed his finger further, added a second one and the clumsy strokes he gave at Grimmjow, he received back. But the more he thrusted his fingers in, the less his hand between Grimmjow’s legs moved. Grimmjow leaned in, pushing Ichigo against the wall.

“H-hey. Like this I can’t move at all.”

Grimmjow was already excited. Ichigo felt it on his fingers. Grimmjow didn’t reply, but took out Ichigo’s fingers from his body and grabbed on his thighs. The muscles of his arms and shoulders tensed as he lifted Ichigo and pinned him against the wall. Ichigo held onto his shoulders and felt the strong muscles of his back twitching.

It was smoother than before. Grimmjow entered his body with a single flowing push, it seemed like all of Ichigo was welcoming him back. Ichigo clenched his legs against Grimmjow’s hips while his back rubbed up and down on the tiles under the intense slow thrusts. He kissed the man’s ear and received a grunt as response. Ichigo chuckled and nibbled into the lobe, sucking on his neck right under the ear. Grimmjow was panting heavily, his voice was intoxicating Ichigo and making his head spin; the water became hot, his whole body was again on fire and he felt every single shiver vibrating through the back brushing against the cold wall.

When Grimmjow moaned on his neck, Ichigo reached his limit; his stomach jolted and he tried to hold it back, but his erection moving against Grimmjow’s firm abdomen stimulated him even more and he released with short tense breaths. Grimmjow was sinking inside him, giving shivers to his body receptive of every single touch he was receiving: Grimmjow’s breath on the shoulder, his lips brushing on the neck, his fingers clenched on the thighs, his chest, stomach and erection. Ichigo felt that all at once, still pleasant, still so strong that it made his head dizzy.

Grimmjow came outside of his body. He took his erection and touched himself until he came, with his eyes half-closed, all over Ichigo’s stomach. His smirk looked satisfied and Ichigo realized that he would have gladly leaned on a bed. His heart was still beating fast, but the slumber of his muscles was catching up with every fiber of his body.

“Tired?”

Grimmjow put a hand under his chin and Ichigo slapped it away.

“You are?”

A part of him screamed he should have just admitted he was almost trembling of exhaustion. But Grimmjow seemed to have an endless mocking grin as he leered at him and Ichigo didn’t want to fall back. Also, a tiny voice inside him recalled that Grimmjow was human, so he had to be tired at some point.

However, Grimmjow was a beast. A beast disguised as a human that lured Ichigo right into his trap and Ichigo realized it when it was too late, when he was pinned again against the bed and Grimmjow drilled inside him with his fingers. One, two, at the third Ichigo widened his eyes as his insides were spread in harsh circles.

“N-no, s-st…”

Grimmjow sucked off a drop of drool from the corner of his mouth. Ichigo wasn’t able to think straight anymore, his body became too sensitive and he reacted at every slight touch he was receiving and Grimmjow was touching and sucking him on every side he could reach. As Grimmjow took off the fingers, Ichigo sighed in relief but his erection was throbbing and he wanted to get rid of that painful pleasure.

It was written all over him, all over his eyes blurred from lust and all over his sweaty body trembling like it was out into the cold. Grimmjow would have kept teasing him if just he wasn’t feeling the same desire of satisfying the crave of his own body. He laid down on Ichigo’s body; he pressed the chest against his back, rubbed the legs against his, pressed his erection between his firm and bit his shoulder. Ichigo’s raised hips were a silent but inviting request and Grimmjow penetrated him again.

Grimmjow thrusted deep inside, his moans resembled more growls that were inflaming Ichigo. As he expired a grunt a bit louder, Ichigo reached out towards back and scrabbled on Grimmjow’s hip, clawing on his buttock. He still had enough energy to push his whole body back and try to impose his own rhythm. His resistance intoxicated Grimmjow.

“Dammit!”

He jerked his body back and straightened his posture, kneeled behind Ichigo. Grimmjow grabbed his hips and drilled inside him with enough violence to make their bodies smack together at every thrust and rip off from howls from Ichigo’s throat.

“A-ah! T-there! There!” Grimmjow wasn’t hitting on the same spot, but every time he did Ichigo lost his breath. “There! Grimmjow!” He was desperate in calling out his name. “Yes!”

Grimmjow cackled and grabbed Ichigo’s erection, pumping it too fast for the boy to bear the stimulation anymore.

“No, ah!” Ichigo glared back for how he could turn his head. “Grimmjow, don–ngh!”

The orgasm emptied him of words and energies. All the adrenaline rushed away into the squirts that dirtied the covers and what remained inside him was a lingering satisfaction mingled with a growing idleness and Grimmjow pounding into his body. He still managed to take out shivers from every thrust. Grimmjow didn’t exit his body. He came fastening his pace and his semen dripped into Ichigo’s body until the last thrust.

They remained still, with their breaths filling the silent room. Ichigo realized Grimmjow was moving a hand on his back, tracing large circles and pressing his fingers a bit more as he drew the line of his spine. When the hands moved to his thigs, the aftermaths of his orgasm were fading away, leaving a dizziness into his rear.

“G-get out… I’ll make you pay the rent otherwise…”

Ichigo’s shoulders and arms were leaning dead on the bed, but he still had his knees bended and his ass up into the air. If that was a wonderful position for sex, the moment it was done it turned into an uncomfortable and embarrassing posture.

Maybe it was his impression, but Grimmjow’s laugh sounded less mocking than before.

“I thought you were about to faint.” He smacked his ass and the semen dripped down the thigs. “Go clean yourself and then off to bed.”

Ichigo was puzzled. Grimmjow rustled into the drawer, then, when he noticed Ichigo was still half bended on the bed, he stopped. “I’m not taking the car for you, but If you want to go sleep into your bed at home, you know where the door is.”

His legs felt numb, but Ichigo dragged himself to the bathroom. He wasn’t feeling like going around the house, so waiting for the first bus stopping near his neighborhood was out of question. He walked into the darkness, a hand against the wall looking for the light that he didn’t find.

When he came back, feeling a bit relieved and with his head a bit clearer, Grimmjow wasn’t in the bedroom. Ichigo looked at his back standing out against the lights of the town which arrived to the balcony. A small thread of smoke was dancing around his head and when he brought a hand to his mouth, Ichigo saw the red glimmer of a cigarette into his fingers. But what caught his attention was the black number carved on the skin of his back; it wasn’t placed at the center, but drifted on the right and the number wasn’t neither straight, it was inclined to the left. Nothing seemed to be usual with Grimmjow, neither with Aizen’s mark.

Ichigo crawled under the cover; it changed from before, but he spotted the one they had sex on wrapped into an angle of the room. It was warm and comfortable. He was going to fall asleep in the bed of someone who was dangerous. But not enough for Urahara to stop him from doing what he had just done.

His body felt too heavy and Ichigo closed his eyes. The last thing he saw were the transparent white curtains being blown by the wind in front of Grimmjow’s figure, but the number six was still visible into the night.

***

The alarm clock of his mobile phone rang. Ichigo pushed his had further under the cover and mentally prayed the infernal device to break down. But when he realized that he wasn’t hearing the sound of the alarm clock, but rather that of his ringtone, he sat down.

The white of the room exploded under the daylight and Ichigo quickly recalled what happened the previous night. His job, Grimmjow, his apartment, his intoxicating body and voice. Ichigo shook the head and jumped out of the bed, running to the other side of the room, where his clothes had been folded and put on a chair and his bag was right behind. He rummaged inside and when he read the name on the screen he was alarmed.

“Tatsuki!” He called as he pressed the green dot on the screen. “What’s wrong? Why are you calling me this early?”

“This early?!” The voice of his friend was harsh. “Ichigo, it’s almost midday, you missed your morning lesson and you aren’t in your apartment! Where the hell are you?”

“Uh… to a friend’s. I guess I forgot to put the alarm clock. But I’m sure I had it programmed for the whole week.”

“I guess that too. What’s the friend’s name?”

Ichigo was about to say Renji, but he didn’t know how much he wanted his friends from high school to know he stripped off his clothes and occasionally had sex with wealthy men or women in order to pay his rent on his own.

“R-Renji.”

“Oh.” Tatsuki silenced. “Just say you have a boyfriend.”

“I don’t have a boyfriend.” Ichigo deadpanned her.

“Sure. Ishida said this time he’ll let you borrow his notes, but try at least to arrive for the afternoon classes.”

“Yes, I’m on my way.”

Ichigo closed the call. He looked at the glass wall and was attracted by it. He put on his underwear and opened the sliding door with a click. A soft breeze caressed his face and he walked barefoot on the balcony. Ichigo expected it to be dirtier than it was, but the tiles were as white as the rest of the room behind. From there he had the perfect view of great part of the town’s skyline. He recognized the shape of his college and from that he realized he was standing on one of the skyscrapers he stared at with his friends sometimes; usually Keigo was the one blabbering on how he would have loved to see how the apartments were inside. The previous evening Ichigo was too focused on Grimmjow to care where he ended up. But now the stranger environment around him was awakening his curiosity. He put on the trousers and the t-shirt, then walked out the room as silently as he could.

The living room was an open space with an entire wall made of glass that made Ichigo feel like he was into an acquarium, with the only difference that he was the one looking through it. There was a sofa squaring around a short table and a bit further a peninsula that formed an open and large hexagon traced the edge with the kitchen. Everything came in clear white, blue and beige colors. There were some pictures of towns that Ichigo didn’t recognize, but not a single person was portrayed. There were also some stairs that brought to a single door.

“Good morning.”

A stranger voice caught him by surprise. Ichigo turned and meet the gaze with a man with black hair all put back and tied into a thin braid. He had his hands behind his back in a rigid posture that made him look stiffen into his elegant blue suit.

“I am pleased to do your acquaintance. My name is Shawlong Koufang and I work for Grimmjow Jaegerjaques.”

Those names were both foreigners and Ichigo thought of Grimmjow’s surname as French. It didn’t suit him at all.

“I’m pleased to meet you too. I’m Kurosaki Ichigo.” Ichigo didn’t sound convinced at all, he was still puzzled by the whole situation. “I overslept. I have to go now and–“

“Mister Jaegerjaques left this for you.” Shawlong handed him a small brown package, he had very long arms and fingers. “And added he would have gladly made you have your breakfast here, but unfortunately he wasn’t expecting any guests for the time being and we cannot grant you a satisfying meal here.”

Ichigo raised an eyebrow. “Did he say these exact words?”

“I suppose that saying _that mouth- louded brat is old enough to move his pretty ass and go taking his fucking breakfast in a cafeteria or something, like hell I’m going to buy some milk and bread to feed him_ was a bit rude for me to repeat, as we don’t know each other. So, I took the liberty to change the words a bit.”

“Just a bit, huh…?” Ichigo opened the package. “Then I suppose this isn’t breakfast.”

“I am sure with those you can have a healthy breakfast at a cafeteria. The one at the ground floor on the opposite building makes delicious pancakes.”

As he looked inside, Ichigo’s eyes widened.

“With all this money, I can buy a cafeteria! What’s wrong with Grimmjow?”

His yelling didn’t touch Shawlong, who maintained his straight face. “That is the outcome of your bet, for what I have been told. And I’m quite sure that amount of money won’t allow you buying whatsoever business.”

“The bet…” Ichigo’s eyes darted down, scenes from the previous night exploded in front of his eyes. “About that, I don’t–“ _deserve_ “–think I earned these…”

Ichigo tended the package to Shawlong, who still had his hands behind his back and was staring at him with severe eyes.

“Mister Jaegerjaques thought you would have said that, so he recommended me to refer this to you.” Shawlong brought a hand to his mouth and made a small cough. “ _Say to that brat that if I see even one banknote from that package in my house when I’m back, I’ll go find him and stick them up to his ass. Not that he wouldn’t like it._ ”

Ichigo was stunned.

“My bad.” Shawlong added. “Unfortunately, Japanese sometimes is difficult for me and I had no idea on how to sugarcoat those words.”

“D-don’t’ worry.”

“If you want a suggestion, Kurosaki Ichigo, you should take that money.”

Ichigo took the pack of banknotes from the package and counted them quickly. Then he divided a smaller pack from the rest and put it on the closest piece of furniture.

“Mister Urahara always withholds some money when customers pay us for sex.” He swung the banknotes into his right hand. “These are the right amount for the bet.” Ichigo went picking his bag into the bedroom, pushed the money deep inside the false bottom and went back. “Thank you very much, Shawlong.” He bended his back a bit, took his shoes and before his hand touched the handle, the door was opened automatically. Ichigo gave the door a stunning look, then he exited the apartment and closed it behind him.

Shawlong turned his back at the entrance and looked at the skyline of the city.

“Honest boys like him are a rarity nowadays.” He commented. “Somehow I see why Mister Aizen is interested in him.”

The door on the upper ground opened and Grimmjow, with only a pair of trousers on, descended the stairs.

“You can drop the formal talking when we’re here.”

“I see why Aizen wants to fuck that boy so badly.”

“Just make sure that nobody within the group knows about this. Only Primera is aware.”

“There’s no need to say it, Grimmjow.”

Grimmjow sat down on the sofa with a laugh. “It always gives me creeps hearing you say _Mister Jaegerjaques_. All this formal shit, I’ll never get used to it even in a million years.”

“If I may, it was a lot creepier the idea of you spying on the boy.”

“I had to confirm something.”

“What?”

Grimmjow bended his head back and looked at the ceiling. “He’s as stupid as he looked. He has no idea how much he was lucky that he ended up under that mad hat’s protection.”

“Do I sense a soft spot here?”

“Hah?” Grimmjow grimaced. “Like hell. But since I’ve found a new pleasant toy, I won’t let any of the Espada lay a single finger on him. Neither Primera, nor Aizen.”

“At least until you’ll grow tired of him.”

“As always.”

Grimmjow stretched the muscles of his arms. He had the impression the pressure he felt carving into Ichigo’s body and clenching on his muscles still was lingering on his fingers. He bended them twice and decided it was just tiredness. But somehow, it was only a lazy idleness and not the heavy tiredness that he had been dragging around for a while.

“Now, what’s for breakfast?”

“I recommend the pancakes of the cafeteria at the ground floor on the opposite building.”

“…really? I thought it was a joke when you said I didn’t have anything in the fridge.”

Grimmjow took the mobile phone from the pocket of the trousers and leafed through his contacts.

“Wouldn’t it be confusing, labeling his number as _brat_?”

“Maybe lap-dancing brat would do the do.”

“Wouldn’t using his name be easier?”

“Shawlong, you’re as talkative as Di Roy this morning.” And that wasn’t a compliment.

“I am just curious about this new situation and, to preserve your safety, I need to keep an eye on whoever comes in contact with you.” Shawlong admitted. “Are you planning on getting in touch with the boy?”

Grimmjow looked at the numbers written one after the other. Then he closed the small window and blocked the screen.

“Maybe, who knows.”

He had plenty of time. And eating the whole cake in a gulp wouldn’t have been fun at all. He would have waited and watched from far how much he had intoxicated Ichigo and how much the boy would have resisted.

On the bus heading to his college, Ichigo watched at the screen of his mobile. Someone put a new number into his telephone list and he didn’t need much imagination to guess who it was.

_ Are you sure you want to delete the number? _

Yes or no. There was no in between.

Ichigo’s thumb got so close to the “yes” that when he shifted to the other option he wasn’t sure he still had the number until he checked again. He read the name and felt embarrassed at the relief he felt on his chest at having that number still among his contacts.

_ Grimmjow _ _ Jaegerjaques _ .

**Author's Note:**

> I can write every situation and I feel comfortable whatever may be the circumstances I have to describe. But damn it if I have troubles with smut. It seems like everything is "stiffen" compared to the rest. I'll do more exercise.


End file.
